


In the Moment

by Khantael



Category: 999: Nine Hours Nine Persons Nine Doors - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khantael/pseuds/Khantael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attempted look into Akane's mind during the events of 999. "If I don’t play this right, I won’t survive today, and I’m not ready to die yet. Anything else must take a back seat to this."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annwyd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annwyd/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! Enjoy the season! I really hope this is the sort of thing you had in mind.
> 
> This story assumes that the second Nonary Game is being led by Akane and Aoi, and nobody else in the Game is complicit (eg. Seven's amnesia isn't faked, etc.). It also assumes that you can't just use the "copied what she saw nine years ago" excuse for absolutely everything because Akane does have a mind of her own...

Have you ever thought that you’re living for a certain moment? As if your whole life is just build up to a certain event, and thinking about anything else is really just superfluous. Have you ever _known_ it?

Since I was a little girl, I have.

I had a normal childhood once. Not normal in the “mother and father with 2.5 children” kind of way, far from it, but I was happy. My brother took care of me. My main concerns were grades and when I’d get to eat and hanging out with my friends, but one day that all changed. I suppose you could say that’s when it all started.

There’s this company you might have heard of – Cradle Pharmaceuticals. It’s not exactly small, and it’s not exactly ethical either. They researched the kind of things you might expect a pharmaceutical giant to do, and then some that you really wouldn’t expect. They didn’t use volunteers either. They owned certain hospitals, and they used to experiment on children in secret. This wasn't just minor employees either; this came from the top – from the CEO himself. He was looking for people who showed the potential to access something called the morphogenetic field. I was considered a potential candidate, and so was my brother, Aoi.

The CEO, Gentarou Hongou, decided he had to do something with these children. He didn’t want them to just show this potential, he wanted to create a situation where they’d be forced to access the morphogenetic field, so he decided to accomplish this by kidnapping all the children. There are two factors in accessing the morphogenetic field: epiphany, and danger, so he tailor-made a situation where these factors would be prominent. He called this situation a Nonary Game.

That’s when all this started. The moment I woke up on the Gigantic, my fate was decided.

It turns out that, if you’re determined enough, you can fight fate. If you don’t mind everything that you lose in the process.

* * *

The sensation of water tickling my feet is very familiar, although the panic doesn’t come this time. I wonder how many other people in these cabins are thinking the same thing, because it’s meant to be familiar. Some of them have been here before, and others have just been to places very similar. Eight cabins are currently occupied, although they aren’t the only players in this game.

It might seem cruel, forcing people to escape these puzzle-laden rooms ( _or you’ll drown!_ ), but these puzzles were made for children. We’re all adults here now. Doesn’t that make the original experiment just that much more fucked up? I find it quite easy – the puzzles in my room are all still there, or it’d be obvious something’s up, but I’ve _lived_ for this. This whole building used to be a nightmare for me, but I can cope with most of it now. I’ve been here enough times with Aoi. A lot of the groundwork was already there of course, since this building doubled with the Gigantic. But this Nonary Game didn’t just set itself up again.

I wait a while before I start solving the puzzle. Don’t want it to seem too quick – if this whole thing is to work, I can’t seem too competent. I have to be just… there. Poor Akane, she’s no good at any of this. She couldn’t dream this up. She’s just not clever enough.

Making myself look… not quite competent only stings a little. I have to put aside my feelings, because lives depend on this. And not just mine.

* * *

Flat on the floor, I stare into a familiar face. I saw this face as a little girl, and I still knew who it was, even though the age was all wrong. I still find myself blinking, and that I didn’t expect. I’m not surprised that Junpei’s here, of course: I arranged for him to be here. He was always the first name on the list (even before my brother, but don’t tell him that). Aoi collected him for me.

What? You didn’t think I did, did you? I’m not strong enough to haul people around, and certainly not alone. The mastermind of this entire scheme is Zero, and that’s me. Still, it would be more accurate to say that Zero is… a shared role. I’m the brains, and he’s the brawn. If it comes down to it, then he’s a more likely Zero candidate than me, and that’s what we’re banking on. Yet when push comes to shove, I have the final say.

Anyway, it’s still strange to see his face finally in front of me. I’ve seen it a lot in my dreams – no, not like _that_ , but I’ve relived this for years, and awoken burning up and soaked in swear. For a while I actually stopped wearing bed sheets and stuff to see if it’d help, but I still awoke gasping and fever ridden. Not much you can do to help when the cause isn’t physical, I suppose.

I don’t actually remember the entirety of my time on the Gigantic. You’d think that having gone over it so often in my head I’d have every last detail down, but not really. I did remember it all, once upon a time, but as time passes I lose more and more of the details. Nobody remembers every detail of their life: remembering so many different possibilities, many that would never occur any longer, on top of creating new memories could easily drive a person mad. As time passes, more and more of my memories of that time slip away from me no matter how much I try to hold onto them. Now I only remember bits and pieces. I remember water pouring, and the roaring of the waves. I remember cries and shouts, and children with tear soaked faces. I remember the frustration of puzzles gone wrong and oh, there’s no time for this, hurry _up, hurry up!_ I remember the face of an adult Junpei even though I saw him weeks earlier and then he’d been the same age as me (that’s not possible? You’ve obviously not got your head around the morphogenetic field phenomenon yet), and I remember orange.

I really hate orange. It makes me feel sick. You don’t need to know more than that.

In front of me, Junpei has a frown of concentration on his face. He looks… rather confused, actually. It’s clear that he doesn’t recognise me. That won’t do. I suppose I could rely on the kindness of Junpei’s heart – and he was always a sweet enough kid – but this is too important to have to rely on blind faith in strangers. Zero’s presence isn’t going to make anybody very trusting. I have to speed this along.

My face smooths into an expression of wide-eyed shock. I think back to so many years ago, time spent smiling and hanging around with Junpei, and do my best to summon the essence of that innocent little girl. It’s hard to grasp onto, but hopefully I’ll settle into it quickly. Much of my adult life has been an acting performance, this is hardly anything new.

“Oh my gosh!” I simper. “Is that you, Jumpy?!”

I’d like to think it’s the acting that catches him, but it’s probably just that deliberately placed nickname. I finally see recognition in his face, and with it uncertainty and a much bigger dose of sympathy than was there before. It’s always more tragic when it’s someone you know suffering with you.

“A-Akane?!”

Got him. Hook, line and sinker.

* * *

The contestants for our Nonary Game are very carefully chosen.

At the centre of it all, there’s myself and Aoi. This game exists for one major purpose: to save my life. It stands to reason, then, that I need to be present to oversee the whole thing, and to act as a catalyst. Aoi can freely help me out – it’s easy for us to pretend to be strangers, as we don’t look very alike – and can steer people in the right direction if a nudge is needed.

Also at the core of it all is Junpei although, unlike us, he has no idea of his part in all of this. I used to feel rotten about the idea of dragging him into this mess, but it’s amazing what you can get used to over time. I’ve known he’d be here since I was a child, and it’s non-negotiable. The only way this whole plan is going to work is if he’s as uncomfortable as possible, so I suppose you could say a lot of the things to come are really there for Junpei’s benefit, and mine by proxy. This con is all on him.

Don’t think that I don’t care about Junpei. We were good friends once. When I used to spend time with him back when I was just a carefree child, I got to stop worrying and just have fun for a while. I don’t think he ever knew how much I valued that. He even got me a doll once – I used to treasure that doll; I carried it everywhere with me because it reminded me of him. It’s actually what got me in trouble back then, and it’s probably also what saved me. Obviously I'd love to immediately rekindle that friendship, but it's just not that simple. Over these nine years I’ve changed a lot, and I’m sure Junpei has too. I can’t afford him to look at me and not recognise me, because at the end of the day, there are more important things at stake here. If I don’t play this right, I won’t survive today, and I’m not ready to die yet. Anything else must take a back seat to this. I can’t afford to think of anything else right now!

I need to get information out about the morphogenetic field to Junpei, so after that I had to borrow some fellow participants of the first Nonary Game so the information wasn’t from us. I was concerned that someone we picked might recognise me, but Aoi had the perfect solution: one of the participants had been blind, and had demonstrated some compassion towards my plight back then. We chose Light, who couldn’t see us, and his sister Clover, who had never actually been on the Gigantic with us, for those reasons. We weren’t sure that he’d remember the first experiment, so in his Braille note we reminded him about it by threatening to hurt his sister if he mentioned it. Telling somebody _not_ to do something is a sure-fire way of getting that information out there.

Only one person knew about the kidnapping aboard the Gigantic and tried to rescue us. He was a policeman (a detective actually), and I decided to summon him because of his determination to get us out that first time. The aim isn’t to kill everybody in this building here, so somebody with skill to get people out when everything’s accomplished is a good person to have around.

The next person, who declares her “name” as Lotus, has been poking around the incident with the Gigantic for a long time. She doesn’t have any information to piece it together, but she has the curiosity and the wits: her children were victims of Cradle’s mass kidnapping, and she had to know what had changed them so much. She also has good computer skills, and if she were to find out about Cradle’s malpractice and get out to tell the tale of exactly what they’ve done in the name of research… well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be stopping her.

Last but not least are our… special guests. To keep them on their toes, they all play different roles in this game. Two have numbers as participants in the Nonary Game, numbers 1 and 9. One has an “extra” number: Zero, a contingency plan to deal with various issues. One is “sleeping”. His part has yet to begin.

* * *

Now only one has a number. Good riddance.

* * *

What’s that? Callous? Me?

I wasn’t quite forthright before about what I remember.

For over a year after we escaped the Gigantic, I woke up screaming every single night. I couldn’t put my terror into words; in any case, it was obvious what had disturbed me.

A man dragging me physically through the air, ignoring my pleas for help, and chucking me through a door into a room and locking it. … “ ** _Help me! I’m trapped in here!_** ” … “Emergency incineration command has been acknowledged.” … “ ** _I don’t want to die!_** ” … “Automatic incineration will take place in… 9 minutes.” A puzzle of numbers, 1 to 9, yet not involving digital roots. … “All you have to do is solve that puzzle!” … The frustration and fear of almost grasping something when… “Automatic incineration will take place in… 8 minutes.” … the reality of situation hit home and took all thoughts from her mind but sheer, unadulterated terror. … “ ** _I don’t know how!_** ” A face pressed against the window, distorted and horrifying and cackling out a rasping laugh. All of this, Aoi knew.

This next part, he never knew: in hitting upon this solution, I had to look down many different paths. I only stopped looking when it became clear nothing would work out. Before I finally managed to lead the Junpei of the future to help me of the present to survive, I saw many outcomes which didn’t end so well for me. In my nightmares, sometimes I saw those flashes. Orange mostly, but also red and yellow. Flickering. A tickling sensation that made way to absolute pain. Numbness. The roaring of a thousand flames, as merciless as the face pressed against the window, watching this entire situation with a disappointed air. The muted screams of horrified children. Heat entrapping my entire body and no fresh air to breathe in. All that, in flashes a second long.

Some of that can’t be right. That’s not how it actually works. All in all, I don’t think I _actually_ remember being burned alive, but my brain did its best to fill in the gaps.

It hasn’t happened, yet it has happened to me. It is also yet to happen. My tenses get all confused when I talk about what happened back then.

So, do I regret the fact that a man died? He died of the bomb booby-trapped bracelet I put on him, so there’s definitely some responsibility there. The rules were quite clear, yet he chose to disobey them… that was his choice, not mine. Really, he ought to have known better, him of all people.

This whole situation may well have gotten by without the bombs in the bracelets. The bracelets are as much a con as my personality. Several of the numbers displayed on the bracelets are not quite accurate. Most of the bracelets don’t have bombs in at all – we might have been able to get by without any needing to be used. Many people would be too scared to push it, especially participants of the previous Nonary Game who would know just how deadly it could be. The morphogenetic field – the thing that endangered my life, and also that saved it – can only be easily accessed through dangerous situations, and that danger must seem real: mortal peril. Junpei needed convincing that the danger was real, and someone dying was the perfect way to do that.

…Yes, I knew he’d probably die. I’d seen it before, after all, and his bracelet was one of the inaccurate ones purely out of preparation for a move like this. Still, when he died I felt nothing… just, strangely empty. I thought there’d be at least some kind of feeling (sadness? relief? glee?), but honestly the strongest thing I felt was along the lines of “well, this room is rather unpleasant now” when I saw it later. I wonder what that means for me.

I still don’t regret it though. My only desire is to protect the innocent. The rest of them… can burn.

* * *

The truth is that this Nonary Game actually exists for two reasons.

The first is to save my life, obviously, by completing that loop from so long ago.

The second is because a world where four men can hatch a plan to kidnap a whole bunch of children to put them through hell, yet never stand accused of anything wrong is ridiculous. If the justice system can’t deal with them, then they’ll get their just desserts another way. For every child whose life they ruined, they will pay. They will fall at the hands of their own experiment, coming back to haunt them. Isn’t it wonderful?

Kubota, the man who died, was one of those four. Hopefully, the others will be joining him soon.

Don’t think I’m completely heartless. I offered Gentarou Hongou a choice to admit to his crimes, so he could be punished for them, and his business would take a hit as a bonus (Aoi and I had gotten everything we needed from Cradle Pharmaceuticals at this point, after funding this project entirely through money earned on Cradle’s stocks – a nice bit of poetic justice).

Just because I suspected that he’d never take up the offer, and brought all his old helpers in close proximity, doesn’t mean anything. Does it? _Does it?_

* * *

Hongou doesn’t recognise me.

It’s not surprising: it’s much easier for us if he doesn’t suspect us specifically (though he must suspect _something’s_ up: there aren’t many people who’d know about this old facility of his, from that first experiment) and one thing I do remember is that his ability to recognise faces is, at the very least, significantly impaired. We’re relying on it, in fact. Despite this, I’m surprised to say that it actually hurts.

This man’s face has haunted me for so long, every time I closed my eyes. That screwed up face in the window, roaring and cheering and waiting for me to burn. Wanting me to, wanting me not to. I don’t know which would have been worse. He’s the only one of the four people behind the original Nonary Game whose appearance I never had to look up. I’d never forget it.

His eyes seem to look right through me, immediately dismissive. My fists clench. I have to keep my mouth shut or I don’t know what I’d say, but the rage building up inside me wants me to confront him, or to take him to that incinerator and fling him in there and laugh and laugh and laugh. Would he be smiling then? I’d watch and see.

I close my eyes and count to ten. Calm. Patience, Akane. There are more important things to worry about here. Besides, you’ve waited this long. Let the trap ensnare him, before he realises a trap exists at all. By the end of this, one way or another, he’ll pay for his crimes.

Revenge, or justice? What a silly question. Aren’t they just the same thing, in the end?

It’s not a personal affront anyway. True to form, he doesn’t seem to recognise _anybody_ , but perhaps it’s just that he’s a good actor too. He plays the nice, concerned man so well. The only hint of his conceit is that code name: “Ace”, really? But when Kubota dies, I know who orchestrated that situation: it seems he recognised Kubota after all. He probably introduced himself, like a fool.

Oh well. No use crying over spilled milk.

* * *

I always knew a man named Snake was going to die.

While I obviously don’t remember every possibility that I saw back then, I do remember bits that particularly stood out, or that were constants. You pay more attention to something when it doesn’t happen just once, but time and time again. No matter where I looked, Snake died. It seemed unavoidable: at the same time in this second Nonary Game, Zero’s Nonary Game, someone went missing, and someone died.

I could use that.

Aoi and I plot it all out. He probably finds my orders a bit strange, but he knows now isn’t the time to question them. I stay with Junpei, a perfect alibi, while Aoi makes it his mission to corner Light and overcome him. We still have quite a bit of knockout gas left from retrieving our players, so I tell him to put it to good use – no use in changing a winning strategy.

One Snake down, another Snake born. This one is another “old friend”, and he’s been drugged so heavily that when I last saw him he barely knew who he was. There’s something quite cathartic in using Cradle’s own drugs against them. Anybody who ran that last Nonary Game deserves a taste of their own medicine. By switching his clothes with Light, we’ve laid another part of our trap. The “perfect Ace” won’t know what’s hit him!

* * *

Clover is sobbing in a corridor, aggrieved and cursing Zero for making her go through this hell again, and this time taking away her brother. His being missing would be bad enough in normal circumstances, but it could be a death trap here: you can’t get out the number 9 door if you’re not there. Clover is a bit of a wild card; she probably suspects that all is not what it seems, since there’s a fair chance she’ll remember some of this from her childhood, and realise that being on the Gigantic really doesn’t add up. This facility, here in Nevada, was the one that Clover was in. Will she connect the dots? Unlikely, with her mind in this state.

I stare over Junpei’s shoulder, as he wrestles with his thoughts about whether or not he should say something, or just leave her to grieve.

There are many things I could say to her, but I don’t say any. At the end of the day, I’m Zero. To accomplish my goals, some sacrifices have to be made. This sorrow will only be temporary. Until then, she’ll just to have to deal with it.

* * *

It’s actually not all that difficult to fake being kidnapped, especially when you have experience to draw on. There are few people that I’ll allow so close to me that they’d be able to get the grab on me, but I’m always comfortable with my brother at my back. Even so, I feel a chill because it’s so familiar. I’m not scared of Aoi, but fear does start to creep up on me at the situation, despite the fact I know it’s entirely fake. Maybe it’s just because I know what’s coming up, and I can’t avoid it anymore. Or maybe it’s that no matter how hard I try, when it comes down to it, I can’t entirely shake away the terrified little girl who was dragged screaming through this ship, because whether I like it or not, that girl was me. Is me.

If all is going to plan, then Snake will soon be rescued, and the party we’ve just left behind will be able to move on. Aoi and I can’t relax, though, because we have company: can’t give the game away too early. With a gun pointed to my head, it’s time for “Ace” and Lotus to do some work.

* * *

Our plan goes perfectly until we enter the incinerator. That’s when it all starts to go wrong – or maybe, depending on your perspective, it starts to go _right_.

“What the hell?!” asks Lotus as we enter the incinerator. She’s the only one of us who has never seen this place before, and so the only one with a really proportional reaction. She looks quite disturbed by the implications – and she doesn’t even know that the room is still functional yet.

Hongou doesn't react outwardly at all. I'd love to know what he's thinking. His face never gives any clues away.

Aoi and I both stiffen up, for different reasons. I wonder if Aoi remembers hearing me shouting in here. I know he didn’t run away, because when the puzzle was finally solved and the door opened, his face was the first one that I saw. He’d been there all along.

My stomach is rolling. I can feel heat pressing all around me, smell things cooking that really aren’t meant to be cooked. I have to stop myself from heaving. The nausea is awful. I’m shaking all over like I have a fever, but I’m cold to the touch. Before I was walking, but now Aoi’s practically carrying me.

Get yourself together, Akane, I tell myself. It’s all in your head! But words, and logic, can never stop an unintentional reaction. That part of you simply doesn’t listen to reason.

I must look awful, because Aoi, who has acted masterfully so far, falters slightly with the gun and spares me a look. It’s not quite concern – he can’t drop the act that much, but it’s a mistake, because the minute he shifts his attention to me Hongou sniffs out an opportunity, and lashes out at him.

He’s strong and fast. We never should have taken our eyes off him. That careless shove could have killed me, but compassion was never one of Hongou’s traits. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.

I slip to the floor. Nobody really notices; everyone in the room has their attention drawn to Hongou, who has completely floored Aoi. He sinks to the floor in pain, wincing, his attention seeming to have totally wandered. The gun skitters across the floor, our insurance gone. I don’t think Aoi even notices.

My body feels paralysed. Memories of being tiny and trapped here and ohgodI’mgoingtodieAoiJumpyanyonehelp overwhelm me. I fight to regain control over my limbs – mind over matter, Akane! I’m no use here.

Lotus, our last hope, stands where she is and says, “Oh thank God. We can’t die right before the last hurdle! Not after all this.”

This must seem good for Lotus. Aoi’s the villain in her eyes. In reality, her speaking was a huge mistake.

Hongou looks towards her. He smiles and walks over. There’s something awful in that smile, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Within seconds, the gun is suddenly aimed at her head instead. Unfortunately for her, this threat isn’t faked. It’s all too real.

* * *

I’m reanimated by Junpei’s halting explanation. I don’t know how much sense it makes to anyone else, but I can follow it perfectly. Good old Junpei. I’m actually really proud of him, managing to keep everything together in his head like this. He’s talking about things he shouldn’t know… things that I just barely remember… and that means this all working. We’re communicating. I remember talking to Junpei back then, but not the words I said. It doesn’t really matter, as long as it works.

I conquer my limbs and start to get up. Junpei’s the star of the show, everyone staring at him. There’s nothing worse in a situation like this than there being no answers: if you have to be put through an ordeal, then you need to know why so that you can come to terms with up. Nobody’s going to ignore this explanation.

Only Aoi shows any form of awareness, and he determinedly doesn’t look at me, deflecting attention towards him as needed to enable me freedom to sneak out. I can’t stay in that incinerator any longer. I need to be out here.

My legs are like jelly. I swallow.

Aoi joins me in the control room. He drops the gun on a table as soon as he enters. Everyone else in this building is either dead or locked in the incinerator. (In a shocking turn of events, Hongou didn’t want to confess his sins to the world. Who’d have thought?) For once, we don’t have to look behind our backs.

“I can do it if you want, you know,” he offers.

I shake my head. This is something that I have to do myself.

It’s all come to this. I used to have nightmares about being locked in a functioning incinerator by a mad man. Worse, not nightmares but memories. Now it’s come full circle. I press the button as I set the command to incinerate that same mad man, another man I’d called a friend, and several entirely innocent people.

(“How did it come to this?” warring with “We do what must be done.”)

The electronic voice chimes out, and it’s as awful as I remember.

I sit. There’s nothing else I can do. I’d already done it all.

**Author's Note:**

> ...It is actually really hard to characterise Akane, because I think so much of what we see is an act. The only really "true" looks we get at her are the "her" of 9 years ago, and I think the events have forced her to change a lot. I hope I've hit a reasonable sounding Akane voice?


End file.
